


Ensared

by HermioneGrangerPunchedMeInTheFace



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hermione gets fucked by a plant, M/M, Not for the faint of heart, Other, Tentacle Rape, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26189713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneGrangerPunchedMeInTheFace/pseuds/HermioneGrangerPunchedMeInTheFace
Summary: A favor for Professor Sprout goes awry.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley (mentioned), Hermione Granger/Plant
Comments: 7
Kudos: 96





	Ensared

“You’re doing it wrong,” Hermione snapped as she reached over and plucked the spray bottle from Ron’s hands before he could do any more damage to the newly budding leaves on the Herba Vites that they’d been assigned by Professor Sprout. “You’re supposed to spritz the buds gently with the solution. You need to hold it further back so that it’s a mist, not just a squirt.” 

“Is there any subject that you don’t think you know everything about?” Ron scowled as he stepped back, shooting a jealous look over at Harry, who’d been partnered with Neville. 

Their Herba was the deepest green of anyone’s, no doubt thanks to Neville’s caring hand, and they seemed to be in good spirits together even if Harry was sneaking glances over at the two of them every so often, clearly wishing that he’d been assigned as Ron’s partner just as much as Ron was wishing for him. Ever since the incident with Lavender Brown, Ron and Harry had been particularly attached at the hip and Hermione expected that one of them would admit their feelings for the other any day now. 

But not today. This meant that Hermione would have to suffer through Ron’s bizarre jealousy issues on top of his wounded ego. “I might find myself completely lacking knowledge in all areas the next time that you need help with an essay if it will make you feel better.” 

Ron immediately turned pink and opened his mouth, prepared to give what must be a hasty argument in his defense when Professor Sprout clapped her hands together. 

“Alright! Spray bottles down. Carefully, now, we don’t want a spill. That solution is precious. Make sure that your Herba is securely covered before you go. Class dismissed!” 

Ron couldn’t seem to bolt in Harry’s direction quickly enough, almost knocking over a Hufflepuff girl who was on her way out of the greenhouse to get to his side. The two of them immediately fell into conversation, with Ron likely bemoaning how terrible it was to work with her, even as she was left to carefully tend to their plant and make sure that its delicate leaves were covered. 

“Miss Granger?” Professor Sprout suddenly called, drawing Hermione’s attention to her. “I’m terribly sorry, but would you mind placing the plants on the shelves? Madam Pomfrey has just sent a note requesting my assistance. I’d only trust you or Longbottom with the care of my plants, but Neville he…” 

Hermione nodded quickly, knowing firsthand just how clumsy Neville could be. “Of course!” 

“That’ll be twenty points to Gryffindor for you. Thank you so much.” 

She waddled out the door after the last, straggling Hufflepuff and closed the greenhouse behind her. With the door shut, a peaceful silence fell and Hermione took a second to look around her surroundings, admiring the way that the light filtered through in here. She’d never been in the Greenhouse alone, before, and she had to admit that she could see why Professor Sprout seemed to enjoy teaching Herbology. It must be nice to have these moments of tranquility between classes. That thought put a smile to her lips and she started to collect the bottles of spray and carry them over to their bins next to the empty shelves that would house their plants in a moment. Maybe she was moving a little bit slower than the task strictly required, but anything was better than going back tot he common room and hearing Ron complaining about her. Again. 

A little bit of alone time in this bright and cheery place with its exotic smells and beautiful plants might be just what she needed. A little air to clear her head and silence to keep her from losing her grip on her sanity. She did like Ron, even when he was being a prat. But why did he always have to be so mean to her? It wasn’t as though she meant to make him feel stupid when he made a mistake. She just wanted to help him learn and - ! 

“Ow!” 

The toe of her shoe caught on the dirty rug on the floor of the Greenhouse on her walk back from the bin and she had to grab onto the shelf that was stocked with empty vials meant to be used to contain the magical bits and pieces of the plants that they cared for in here. The wood bit into her palm and scraped her skin, but she managed to stay upright and in one piece, at least, with nothing worse off for it. Just the tinkling of glass knocking lightly together as the cabinet wobbled. 

She rubbed her palms against her skirt and looked down to fix the rug with her foot when she noticed that on the ground there was a slightly soiled piece of rope and where most of the floor was concrete, a square of it was wooden. 

A trap door? 

Curious, she started to kneel down with the intent of opening it but then froze and looked at the door. She shouldn’t be going through anything private of Professor Sprout’s, especially without knowing what to expect. There could just be light-sensitive plants in need of a cool, dark place to grow. Or extra storage. Or personal affects of the professor’s that Hermione had no right to be snooping in. 

...But what if it was something dangerous? It’s hardly as though this would be the first teacher that they found out was involved in something nefarious. But could she really suspect Professor Sprout of something like that? The woman was always so cheerful. 

She knew exactly what Ron and Harry would do if they were here. They’d want to look, want to snoop. And she’d protest… and they’d probably find something, prove her wrong. Maybe this time, while she’s alone, she should make her own adventure. Prove that she’s not just this overly studious stick in the mud like Ronald seems to think. 

It’s just a quick peek. What could it hurt? 

Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her fingers around the dirty rope and tugged. The door groaned as it gave away, opening up into darkness. The light of the greenhouse wasn’t bright enough for her to see anything down inside and she quickly pulled her wand from the pocket of her robes. 

“Lumos,” Hermione whispered.

The tip of her wand lit up in a blue-ish glow and she lowered her hand and leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of what might be down there. No outlines of shelves or wardrobes or trunks. There was a damp, earthy scent but she couldn’t see any plants. 

Another glance at the door. No one seemed to be looking in on her to catch her snooping. She leaned forward a little more, squinting in the darkness. Is there something on the floor? 

Suddenly, something wrapped around her wrist and tugged, pulling her in through the trap door that slammed shut behind her and left her falling through darkness. 

* * *

The fall seemed both impossibly long and impossibly short at the same time. Hermione couldn’t scream on the way down; could barely exhale loudly enough to gasp. And though her whole body was tensed for a hard landing against solid concrete like the floor of the greenhouse, she landed on something else instead. Her wand was knocked out of her hand and rolled away somewhere in the darkness. 

Hermione scrambled against whatever she landed on, trying to find her footing. The glow of her wand was muted where it landed, but she could make out the faintest glow off to the left. Thrusting her hands out in front of herself, she started to walk carefully on the uneven ground there. 

Until that ground started to move under her feet. 

This time, she really did scream. The sound echoed all around her as she desperately tried to find a part of the ground that was smooth and not moving beneath her feet, but the strange, gnarled thing that she landed on seemed to stretch all over the floor and at uneven heights and lengths like the roots of a tree. 

Something wrapped around her ankle and yanked her down onto the ground. The damp, earthy scent that she had caught a whiff of before she’d fallen was stronger now and she clutched at the strange vines with both hands, trying to get a feel for what they were, reminded sharply of the time that they’d fallen into a pit of devil’s snare… but these vines were as solid as they were velvety soft, not at all like the coarse bark on the vines that had threatened to strangle them to death. 

Another vine wrapped around her other ankle and she was pulled further back into the darkness, her fingers unable to make purchase against anything. Oh god, what could this be? She wracked her brains for any description of a plant that she’d ever read about that fit this. Likes darkness, hard but soft at the same time, sentient enough to grab and pull. But nothing came to mind and she was still being dragged until she suddenly hit a solid, pulsating mass. Two more vines wrapped around her wrist, coming down from above and pulling her upward while a thicker one wrapped around her waist. Suspending her in the air and holding her back against a wall that seemed to also be covered in these vines. 

She struggled and writhed against its grasp, begging her eyes to adjust to the oppressive darkness here so that she could see what she was dealing with. More vines wrapped around her legs and she cried out, again, with the horrible thought that this thing might cocoon her into itself. Hold her hostage until someone realized that she hadn’t been seen since Herbology. 

The vines that were wrapping around her legs started to pull, forcing her knees apart. There was nothing she could do with her hands bound and her back against a wall of the vines. As hard as she wriggled and writhed, the plant wouldn’t give up its grip on her. 

Another vine slipped away from the mass that was attached to the wall, but this one sought out the space between her legs, slipping underneath her skirt and pressing against her through her panties. Hermione let out a noise of protest at the intrusive touch, trying to draw her legs back together but the plant was must stronger than she was and kept her in place as the poking, prodding vine continued to press against her underwear. Rubbing the tip of itself up and down her slit through the fabric until another, smaller vine wriggled itself between the elastic and her skin, wrapping around the crotch her her underwear and pulling until they slid down her legs and left her pussy exposed to the cool air. 

“No!” Hermione gasped, thrashing now. “No, don’t!” 

It was futile arguing with a plant, but there was nothing else that Hermione could do but beg it to stop as the larger vine started to rub itself against her cunt, teasing her sensitive flesh. Touching her in a place where she had never been touched before. 

“Stop, please stop. Accio wand!” She sobbed, knowing damn well that wandless magic was outside of even her abilities. She opened her mouth to scream again and another vine slithered forward from behind her head and thrust itself into her mouth, quieting her. 

The taste of it on her tongue was strange but not entirely unpleasant. The tip oozed an oil that filled her mouth and oozed out from between her lips as it lazily thrust in and out of her mouth. Slowly but going in deep enough to make her gag every time while the vine between her leg continued to tease her slit. 

She was being masturbated by a plant. 

That realization came with a numbing sort of horror, left her unable to do anything but keep her mouth lax and let the vine that was pumping in her mouth and gaze straight ahead into darkness as she was rubbed by the length of this vine. Would this be how she was found? Suspended in the air, being defiled like this? 

No. 

No, she’d rather never be found at all than suffer that humiliation. There had to be a way out of this, a way to get this plant to drop her. If she could just think. If she could just GAAAAH! 

Hermione couldn’t make the sound out loud but screamed within the confines of her mind as the head of the vine that had been teasing her finally grew tired or maybe satisfied with how it had slicked her pussy up because it pressed up against her entrance and thrusted inside just how the other vine had in her mouth. It didn’t hurt as much as she suspected it would, but the feeling of intrusion and the burn of how her cunt stretched to accommodate the plant as it tensed and throbbed inside of her, seeming to grow in thickness, was both less and more unpleasant than she could have ever imagined. 

Now that the plant had two of its tendrils inside of her, it seemed to give into its predatory instincts with wild abandon. Hermione’s tits bounced in her top with the force of the vine that was fucking up into her and she gagged around the tendril that was fucking her throat, saliva mixed with its naturally occurring oil dribbling down her chin and onto her breasts. 

More vines shot out. Some wrapped around her breasts, tugged at her nipples, teased her skin. Others curled up against her back, keeping her supported as she was forced to lie against the hammock of the creature that was defiling her, changing the angle of the thrusting vine and allowing it deeper into her. 

It felt as good as it did bad, a fire burning in her stomach. Heat pooled low in her belly and made the space between her legs slick with arousal. Every tug of her nipples sent pain and pleasure in a dizzying spiral through her until she wasn’t sure if her muffled begging was for the plant to stop or keep going. 

The vine in her mouth tensed and throbbed before pulsing sticky sweetness down her throat while the one between her legs gave a few more powerful thrusts before it spilled inside of her, hot and sticky like the taste on her tongue. 

The vines started to retreat. She was lowered to the ground, set down against the vines there. Fluid from the plants orgasm dripped down her legs. She scrambled across the uneven ground, hands reaching in the direction that her wand must be in… but she was pushed from behind, forced to bend over. 

The vines on the ground wrapped around her wrists and ankles. Keeping her in place while a two new vines pressed against her abused pussy and her untouched hole. 

“No more…” Hermione whispered, even as sharp shocks of want zipped up her spine when her tender pussy was touched again. “Please, no more.” 

If plants could laugh, Hermione would think that this one had when it shook all over before her pleas were answered with twin thrusts from behind. 

She wouldn’t be getting off so easy, it seemed. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by someone a while back. Hermione + tentacles + non-con + no orgasm from Hermione. I think I hit all the bases here! It's been a while since I was in the mood to get in the mood to write fics like these. I hope I wasn't missed too much.


End file.
